Ashputtle
by Kail Ceannai
Summary: Every now and then a stairway would move in an unpredictable manner, and it was on one of these rare occasions that found Hermione.
1. Rare Occasions

Title: Ashputtle  
Author: Kail Ceannai  
Rating:K+

Working Summary: Every now and then, a stairway would move in an unpredictable manner; it was on one of these rare occasions that Hermione found was racing down to the dungeons.

Disclaimer:Based on stories, backgrounds, places, concepts, and characters that are originally of JK Rowling's imagination.

**Chapter One: Rare Occasion**

Hermione was an expert at navigating the stairs. During her first year, before she had become friends with Harry and Ron, she had laid on her back on the cold, hard floor of the lowest dungeon just staring straight up at them with a stop watch in her right hand, a pad of paper in her left, and a pencil behind her ear. Hermione would loose herself and her sense of time while watching the complex patterns of movements. She would relax her eyes and the information would fill her mind, almost like reading a book. Eventually a pattern began to emerge.

The pattern varied on the time of day, the day of the week, if the day was a holiday, and so forth. Eventually the muggle-born hypothesized that the staircases had "recorded" hundreds of years the Hogwarts traffic patterns and now they "predicted" when and to where they ought to swing. She also discovered that if one understood these patterns the staircases would provide a quick and direct route. However, if one were to pause too long in one place, walk too quickly in another place, or follow an obscure or indirect path the staircases would only hinder one further.

Every now and then, a stairway would move in an unpredictable manner. It was a rare occurrence and Hermione had only witnessed it twice in her five years at Hogwarts: the first when she, Ron, and Harry had been delivered to the third floor corridor and the second when . Of course, she reasoned to herself, there had to be some event dictating these movements. Perhaps for the first five hundred years of Hogwarts history on that particular day when the stars were aligned just so every student would visit the Astronomy Tower to observe the heavenly movements thus prescribing the stairways to move despite no longer being required by the modern populace.

It was on one of these rare occasions that Hermione found was racing down to the dungeons. Professor Snape would not be appreciative that the Prefect had been held up by one very lost first year that had to be lead to Charms. Leaping down the steps in pairs, she feared she would miss her next staircase. She did not need the embarrassment of Professor Snape's inventible caustic remarks nor did she wish to miss the valuable moments of education under a Master of Potions.

She skidded around a bend and felt her heart sink. The staircase had moved and it was too far to leap to. Her eyes darted around her frantic mind searching for an alternate route. It suddenly clicked. If she ran fast she could catch the staircase going up one flight and then take the adjacent staircase down one flight thus enabling her to catch the staircase from the other side of the stairwell down to the dungeons. Perfect. Hermione reached the top of the first staircase and waited for it to swing toward the landing. She tapped her toe impatiently. Dread settled in her stomach as she realized the staircase was not moving in the direction it ought to. After an eternity, the staircase snapped into place and, now in search of another route, Hermione charged forward.

A burst of white light temporarily blinded the girl and she felt herself falling backwards. Thump, thump, thump! She tumbled down the stairs. At the bottom she groaned, taking an mental assessment of broken bones. It felt like she had been slammed into a brick wall. Her mind screamed as she fell into the warmth of unconsciousness.

* * *

Author's Note: I've been toying with this story for some time now, but promised myself I wouldn't write it until "Moldy Lace" (working title) was completed. However, while revising that fic this story suddenly came to me. In a blur of typing not only did I get this good intro completed, but the entirety of what was to be "Ashputtle" took a huge detour into unknown territory. This story is now very much its own creature.

Further note: this is the second release of chapter 1. The first had an atrocious number of errors.


	2. Unlikely Feedback

Working Title: Ashputtle  
Author: Kail Ceannai  
Rating:K+

Working Summary: Every now and then, a stairway would move in an unpredictable manner; it was on one of these rare occasions that Hermione found was racing down to the dungeons.

Disclaimer:Based on stories, backgrounds, places, concepts, and characters that are originally of JK Rowling's imagination.

**Chapter Two: Unlikely Feedback**

A groan indicated to Madam Pomfrey that her patient was regaining consciousness. Hurrying over, she began to tut, "Falling down the staircase in such a manner! You're lucky that you wound up with only a broken arm. Now, the diagnostic indicated nothing more than bruises; it's none to reliable with head trauma though. Tell me how you're feeling."

Hermione opened her eyes, wincing at the brightness of the room. "I'm sore all over, particularly my right arm. My eyes hurt. My ears are ringing and your voice is a bit muffled," she listed.

The matron frowned at this. "Hrm, well, after so many hours there shouldn't be any ringing. You're big enough that such a tumble couldn't do great damage if you lived through it, but you'll have to go to St. Mungo's just in case," she sighed. "Now just tell me who you are and how to contact your guardians and well transfer you right over."

The request startled Hermione. "What?" She forced her eyes to focused only to be met with the image of a hovering, and significantly younger Madam Pomfrey. "Wait. What's going on?" A headache was beginning to set it. Hermione rested her cool hand on her forehead, trying to extract an explanation as to what was happening.

Madam Pomfrey's frown deepened. Her patient was obviously confused and distressed. There was no time to seek the answers she needed, so the paper work would just have to sort itself out later. Walking over to the fireplace she threw in a small pinch of powder.

"St Mungo's emergency," a voice simply stated.

"I'm porting over with a girl, roughly sixteen years old, unknown name, unknown family, suffered a stair tumble, unconscious for about four hours, recently awakened with ringing and muffled ears and confusion."

"Port to room five," the voice responded and the connection broke.

Madam Pomfrey spoke to someone Hermione was unable to see. "Inform Headmaster Dumbledore," her voice stern. With a wave of Pomfrey's wand straps tied Hermione to the bed, gripping a strap the nurse's voice commanded "Port to room five. Activate."

The hospital bed shook and with a bit of shaking appeared in a very white, very sterile feeling room. Immediately voices began to chatter. The vertigo of the suddenly set in and the room began to spin around erratically. Hermione caught something about a repaired broken arm, tumbling stairs, and several spells and chants that she did not recognize. Yes, the voices with unseen faces concluded, the girl did have a mild concussion. Nothing much to worry about though and something a quick potion and a good long rest would fix any damage there was. They would like to keep her under watch for the night though just in case something was wrong.

"Here, drink this." A young healer commanded as he pressed a potions bottle to Hermione's lips. The liquid was oddly grape flavored. She strained to voice her observation when she found her eyes growing heavy and her vision blurring as she was forced to succumb to sleep.

When Hermione awoke she felt refreshed and pain-free. She was in a hospital room in St. Mungo's. A small potted daisy broke up the monotony of the white walls and white bed linens. Hermione immediately began tracing her mind to determine what happened. Last, grape flavored potions. What could that have been? She couldn't think of any potions requiring grapes, raisins, or wine. Obviously it had been a healing potion for some sort of head trauma. No matter, that could be researched later. Ok. Head trauma, St Mungo's, Hogwarts Hospital, Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey had not recognized Hermione. Had something happened to her face? Hermione's hands flew up to her face. That was definitely her nose, her cheeks, her ears. Where was a mirror? Hermione sat up in bed.

A lime-green clad wizard interrupted Hermione's assessment. "Oh good, you're up. Perhaps you can give us some clue as to what caused your tumble? We had a good time trying to figure out which floor to put you on. Its rare we ever get anyone with something so mundane as a fall."

His comments begged Hermione to ask, "And which floor did you decide?"

"It was concluded that as they were enchanted staircases, that you belong on the first. My money's hoping there's a magical creature involved." He looked hopeful. With a few waves of his wand he began to perform several diagnostic spells.

"I'm sorry, Mr. . .?"

"Weird," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weird, but I don't know what happened." She furrowed her brow as she sought to confirm the answer. Racing towards potions, missing the staircase, and then an invisible wall? That couldn't be right. "I only remember running into a, a wall of sorts."

"No, my surname is Wiblin," he looked apologetic. "I'm just getting some unlikely feedback from your diagnostic. I'll be right back," he excused himself leaving Hermione to wonder what was happening.

He soon returned with a much older woman also clad in lime-green. She chanted a spell which produced a series of charts and diagrams on a nearby wall. The woman scowled. "Wiblin! How many times must I tell you trainees? Read the charts first! It says right here," she jabbed her wand at the wall for emphasis, "to not run any diagnostic and summon Healer Jewkes immediately!" The woman sighed. "It's just as well. Hurry up, go summon Dumbledore and Jorkins."

The woman turned her attention to Hermione and once again began performing the same spells Wilburn had. "Don't you worry, Miss, everything is going to be just fine. We just have a bit of a mystery on our hands. Nothing that Headmaster Dumbledore and Unspeakable Jorkins can't work out, I'm sure."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Sigh. I had two typos in the previously released chapter. Obviously, this isn't beta'd. Whereas my one-shots which are exercises in writing, this is being written for the sake of rattling the synapses in my brain. Similarly, while I do have a plot in mind for this story, I'm allowing it to go where it will. I am not making any attempt to align days, dates, or the alignment of the stars. The title may change if the plot changes significantly.

Sigh. I just feel silly for knocking Hermione unconscious twice in fewer than a thousand words. Poor girl, it just doesn't seem right.

This chapter broke off at a slightly odd place. I'm trying to keep chapters even by measuring them at about 1000 words. That makes for short chapters, but the precedent was set by the first chapter. It drives me nuts when an author's chapters can vary between 1000 and 5000 words.

The current title used for this story, "Ashputtle" is the same used for the Brothers Grimm version of Cinderella.

An author's shout out goes to XxStarJumperxX.


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